


Butterfly

by lastdream



Series: Superhero Shorts [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Fusion, Bad Flirting, Bossuet is kind of a fangirl, Meet-Cute, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastdream/pseuds/lastdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things like this don’t happen in real life.</p><p>Then again, a few years ago, Bossuet would have said unfrozen supersoldiers don’t happen in real life. Now there are two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> This story totally scraps the backstories associated with the marvel characters I borrowed; you really just need to know their powers and cool names. I'm not sure I did my OT3 justice, but I think I was mostly having fun with my fangirl!Bossuet voice. 
> 
> Some explanation and a request in the end notes.

There is a lesser-known form of torture employed by the higher-ups at Oscorp. It is used to subjugate the will of underlings and prevent all meaningful intelligent thought through its continuous use. After a few minutes, the eyes lose focus; after a few hours, the brain ceases to function normally. Sheer repetition makes it impossible for the soul to attain new dimensions, and it remains forever fixed in the shape set for it by the taskmasters. 

This form of torture is known as the digitization of archive backlogs.

Bossuet is well aware that he’s exaggerating, but he’s found that a dramatic inner monologue helps to make things more interesting. It’s like he’s narrating the movie of his own life— or it would be, if anything at all happened in his life. Just one or two things, really, he’s not that needy. Most of the action goes to the heroes equipped to punch it in the face, and he doesn’t mind that part at all. 

After a few hours of work, Bossuet abandons the scanner to get a cup of coffee from the communal pot in the tiny employee kitchen. It’s really just a counter with an outlet and a sink, set into an alcove that’s barely removed from the rest of the room. Bossuet isn’t sure if it was ever really intended to be a kitchen at all— if maybe some employee with a little free time hadn’t just brought in his own cheap countertop and coffee pot. It doesn’t seems that far fetched, on the whole.

When he gets to the pseudo-kitchen, there’s already someone there, and Bossuet feels his breath stutter just a little, in preparation for the way his voice is probably going to do the same thing if he talks out loud. Because this isn’t just anyone.

This is Hot Doctor from Clinical Trials in the actual lab part of the forty-eighth floor.

Once, Hot Doctor said hi to Bossuet and passed him a cup of coffee, and their fingers touched. Bossuet had looked at Hot Doctor’s eyes (Hot Doctor had been looking somewhere else) and noticed that they were the most beautiful blue-green he had ever seen. It had been the work of a moment for Bossuet’s inner monologue to construct a scenario— Handsome, intelligent doctor falls for a lowly archivist when they meet over coffee in the kitchen they happen to share— but he had instantly quashed it. Things like that don’t happen in real life.

Then again, a few years ago, Bossuet would have said unfrozen supersoldiers don’t happen in real life. Now there are two of them.

Right now, Hot Doctor looks jittery, in the way that means he probably shouldn’t be having coffee. Bossuet considers putting a hand over his in a show of concern, and wonders if that’s too overtly romantic. Then he wonders if it’s selfish to be worrying about that when Hot Doctor clearly needs some kind of help.

Bossuet carefully touches the hand holding the coffee cup, which startles Hot Doctor but doesn’t seem to freak him out, which is good. “How many cups have you had today?”

“One, two…” Hot Doctor tallies for a few moments on his free hand, then blushes fiercely. “Too many.” He self-consciously sets his cup on the counter behind him and then smiles a little at Bossuet, whose heart trips correspondingly. Wow, he’s crushing hard.

“Hey, can I—“ Bossuet starts to ask, reaching toward the coffee machine.

“You could finish mine if you want, I just got it and I don’t want to waste it,” says Hot Doctor. Bossuet is about to put his mouth in the same place Hot Doctor’s was only a minute ago; the universe must hate him. Or love him. He can’t tell which.

“Yeah, sure,” says Bossuet smoothly. “So, how are things over in the Real Science section, Doctor…?” Internally, Bossuet is scolding himself for such a stupidly obvious play for Hot Doctor’s name. This is the kind of line that kills relationships before they begin, like a sparrow snapping up a caterpillar.

“Joly,” fills in Hot Doctor. Hot damn, it worked.

“Yeah, you really are,” Bossuet says before he can stop himself. He watches his budding we-talk-sometimes relationship soar away in the beak of a mother sparrow, probably to be fed to her starving children. At least his pain is going to a good cause.

And then Hot Doctor— Joly— laughs. Not a polite chuckle or a mocking snicker, either— a real, full on laugh. His head tips back to display the tantalizing arch of his pale throat, his chin-length auburn hair falls away from his face, his eyes sparkle, and his mouth is open in picture of gorgeous happiness. Bossuet sees cherry blossoms and sparkles drift through the air to the tune of heavenly choirs.

“I didn’t even think it was that funny,” he says, because apparently all he can do today is shoot himself in the foot.

“No, no it was great!” Joly insists. Maybe he’s some kind of superhero with the magic power to appreciate Bossuet’s humor. “It had all the happiness of me plus Red Bull singular,” he adds, and it takes Bossuet a long, long time to parse that one out: "Red Bull gives you wings," wing, aile, L, Joly becomes jolly. When he finally gets to the end of that chain he has to laugh at the sheer absurdity. Multi-step puns, what even...

“God, you’re worse than I am!” Bossuet exclaims. Joly looks like he had been prepared to explain himself, but is shocked and pleased that he doesn’t have to.

“And you’re as bad as I am,” declares Joly. “Marry me.”

Then they both stop laughing to stare at each other and flush lightly. Well. At least Bossuet knows they’re on the same page.

The weird thing is that he’s tempted to say yes.

“Maybe we should go on a date f—“ Bossuet cuts himself when he sees the stricken expression on Joly’s face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No, it’s… “ Joly sighs heavily. “It’s just that I have a—“

“Boyfriend?” That would be terrible luck, to find out only after that awful, wonderful flirting that they can’t be together.

“Wife.” God, that’s even worse. This whole situation has suddenly become so awkward Bossuet wants to climb out of his body and laugh at it the way he laughs at rom-coms on the big screen. “Maybe we could just be friends?”

“Yeah, okay. My name’s Bossuet, by the way.” It becomes even more surreal as they shake hands like newly-met acquaintances, and both of them are holding back smiles and laughter that’s more than a little hysterical. “See you around, I guess?”

“See you,” Joly repeats, and then they part ways. 

It’s only after Bossuet gets back to his demonic scanning machine that he realizes that he never actually got any coffee.

He spends the rest of his day trying not to feel disappointed about Joly, because it’s just a crush, really, that’s all it was. Someone else got there first, so he has no right to be upset that their stupid flirting didn’t actually turn into a real relationship. The caterpillar had been dead from the start.

When Bossuet finally clocks out, it’s dark outside. When he first moved to the city, the dark streets had been intimidating, but then he had gotten used to them. Now, the grays and yellows punctuated with neon signs are familiar, almost reassuring. The proverbial and literal dark alleys are still a bit ominous, but there are at least a few local heroes, so he doesn’t worry too much.

He probably should have worried more. The first punch hits him in the side of the head about three seconds after he turns down a smaller, darker side street.

“Give me all your money,” says the mugger after a few haphazard slugs. There’s a glint of metal in his hand that— yeah, that’s a knife. Bossuet decides the second he sees it that sticking up for himself isn’t worth the stitches it’ll cost, and he puts his hands up.

“Man, I have like four dollars on me,” Bossuet protests, reaching slowly for his wallet. It’s true— Oscorp archive workers don’t get much in the way of walking-around money.

“Give me all your money,” the guy says again, and Bossuet is starting to get the idea that he isn’t the sharpest knife in the block.

“Alright, alright,” he says as he opens his wallet. He counts out the bills as he finds them. “One, two, three, four— hey, what do you know, I’ve actually got five. Must be your lucky day.” The mugger snatches the bills out of his hand with a snarl.

“You’ve got more than that!” he insists, and brandishes his knife wildly.

“I really don’t, I’m hardly good enough for Oscorp’s big bucks.” Everyone knows Oscorp money is in R&D, and to a lesser extent trials and experimentation. God, Joly must be a genius. Bossuet feels sort of grateful that he got as much of his time as he did.

“Oh, I’m sure you deserve more credit than that,” says a female voice, and then a booted foot comes out of nowhere to knock the mugger to the ground. Her voice is rich, warm, and somehow full of laughter even in speaking, and Bossuet feels the familiar stirrings of a crush. Local hero falls in love with average civilian after saving his life from a vicious mugger— no, that sort of thing doesn’t happen in real life, either. It’s even less likely than the silly scenario his brain came up with for Joly.

“And how would you know that?” Wow, that was terrible. Another caterpillar donated to the cause of sparrow hunger. Bossuet considers exactly how stupid it was to be rude to the person saving his life as he steps back to let the hero do her thing. She’s not quite so fast as he expected a hero to be, but then, she is a local hero. It’s not fair to base his expectations on the global-scale superheroes he’s seen on TV.

“If nothing else, you’re really rocking the no-hair look,” she says, pausing the fight to wink at him. Bossuet feels his eyes widen as he looks at her; she’s gorgeous to begin with, and the skintight crime-fighting costume does wonderful things for her curves. When her red lips curve up in a sensuous smirk, the cherry-blossom backdrop is switched out for roses in purples and deep scarlet. The heavenly choirs stick around, though. 

Then he opens his mouth to warn her about the mugger— who certainly hadn’t stopped the fight to flirt with a civilian— and discovers that she doesn’t need to be fast to win a fight, because she’s one of the ones with superpowers.

The hero doesn’t even move, and the man stumbles and falls through her as his knife catches on nothing at all. As soon as he’s passed through her, she turns and slams a fist into his skull, and he’s out cold. Bossuet whistles lowly and feels his heart thud for reasons that have nothing to do with fear.

“That may be the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen,” he tells her honestly.

“You flatter me,” the hero replies, a hint of a smirk on her lips. “It’s sweet of you, darling, but I’m married.”

“Seriously?” Bossuet wants to swear, because he got stuck with digitization duty, then learned that his crush was married, then got mugged, and then found that his new crush was also married. All in one day. And just because he’s him, it turns out that the mugger has a friend who doesn’t take well to flirting over his partner’s unconscious body. Bossuet goes down in a moment under the man’s greater bodyweight.

Then there’s a flash of blue, and the weight is gone from his back as the second man goes flying across the sidewalk.

“I had him!” the female hero— heroine?— exclaims.

“Sorry, sorry,” the newcomer says. “It’s just—“ In a blink the new hero zips down the street to knock out the second mugger, and he’s back in another blink. All at once Bossuet knows who they are— Quicksilver and Shadowcat. They haven’t done any press, so no one knows whether they got their powers from mutation or radiation or some freak accident, but they were clever enough to give their chosen codenames to the first cop on the scene at their first save. It saves a lot of trouble with media-chosen names, which are uniformly terrible.

“Just?” asks Shadowcat pointedly.

“This one guy. Civilian. I feel… protective,” Quicksilver explains with a shrug. He feels protective of Bossuet? That’s oddly heartwarming, though Bossuet doesn’t think he has room for another crush in one day. The hero comes a little closer, and then steps into the dull pool of light falling from an upstairs window.

“Quicksilver, your mask—“ Shadowcat warns, and it’s on his face in a movement as fast as thought, but Bossuet has already seen his eyes. His very familiar blue-green laughing eyes.

“Oh,” Bossuet says as he gets to his feet. “Figures, I suppose. The two people I tried to flirt with today are not only married, but married to each other. That has to be some kind of achievement.”

Shadowcat scowls at her partner, who scowls back until the two of them burst into laughter. Bossuet tries hard to stay impassive, but eventually he can’t help himself and he joins in too. His life is probably the script of some rom-com that never got filmed because someone realized it was too ridiculous even for the rom-com genre.

“You flirted—“ Quicksilver begins, but dissolves into mirth before he can finish.

“So did you!” Shadowcat gasps, clutching at his shoulder. The two of them are barely holding each other up through their fits of childish giggles, and it’s shockingly endearing. Bossuet feels his crushes in full force. His brain starts to run a scenario, but for once he’s smart enough to shut it down before it can. Some things really, really don’t happen in real life.

“This right here? This is exactly my luck,” he groans.

“You must have very good luck, then,” says Shadowcat when she recovers herself. “We’d like to ask you out.” 

“What?” Bossuet manages. He’s sure his mouth is hanging open unattractively, but it doesn't matter because he definitely wasn’t just asked out by a hero and her husband. Nope. Or, if they did, this clearly isn’t real life anymore, because things like this just don’t happen. His sanity is gone somewhere— the sparrow is probably feeding that to her children, too. At this point Bossuet is probably contributing to sparrow childhood obesity or something.

“Well, I like you, she likes you too— might as well go on a date, right?” Quicksilver says, words tripping over each other as his brow furrows with earnest concern for the answer.

This caterpillar needs to hide in a cocoon as fast as possible, before Bossuet says something stupid to get it killed by a sparrow again. Although, he considers, perhaps there’s not that much danger, after all. The two of them seem oddly immune to the destructive powers of Bossuet’s foot in his mouth.

“Yes, definitely, when,” he says, and it’s not quite a question but it seems to get the point across, because both of them smile at him. 

“Come with us,” Shadowcat says, and the two of them bracket Bossuet and take his hands. There’s an odd tingly feeling as she takes all three of them out of the physical world. Then Quicksilver starts running, and in the blink of an eye, they’re gone.

This is going to be awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> If it wasn't clear, the thing Bossuet says to Joly is based on the similarity between Joly's name and 'joli' (pretty).
> 
> And the request: I'm having a lot of fun with these superhero stories, but my inspiration is sadly limited, and I'd be happy if you guys gave me more! I'm not promising anything, but if you leave me an ami/hero fusion suggestion, I'll probably write a short story about it. DC or Marvel, I love them both :)
> 
> (sacrilege, I know)


End file.
